Monday, July 30, 2012

The power of Thor in cake form

In honor of the visit of aurora_knight* this weekend, I decided to make a little present for her.

thorcake2

It's a cake in emulation of a much better made one I found on the Internet, meant to emulate the the look of Mjolnir stuck in the mud in the movie Thor, waiting  for someone worthy of it to pluck it from the ground. It's a two-layer eight inch round devil's food cake iced with Hersey chocolate frosting. The best part was getting to gouge the top up with a spatula so I could make it look like mud to lay the hammer in. I got the toy Mjolnir from Target for twelve dollars. It is nicely modeled for a cheap toy, made of a bouncy Nerf foam. Jane gets to take that home with her after we eat the cake. It tastes pretty decent, but I know my cake baking skills could use some work. Unfortunately the problem with practicing is that then I'll have a ton of cake lying around that I won't be able to stop eating.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Happy birthday, Rhoda May Biddle

plaidpearls

Yesterday, July 26th, 2012, marks the one year-anniversary since I first started doing @HipsterFeminist, my once-daily joke Twitter feed. I have missed a few days here and there, as evidenced by the fact that one year later Rhoda has 358 tweets rather than 365, but I've been pretty good about posting something most days-- even if it's not the funniest thing in the world, I try to put up SOMETHING. Lately I've even managed to be topical!

I am currently up to 59 followers, which I think is the highest stable number I've ever had. Sadly the number goes up and down with ad accounts appearing and disappearing, and I lost a handful-- including Holly Pervocracy, alas --I think when I tried to do my first attempt at a plotline, when Rhoda stalks her ex's new girlfriend. I'm just guessing, but I think the humor may have gone to much to the "haha, Rhoda's actually a crazy woman" with that string for some people's taste. I want the joke to be primarily "Haha, Rhoda's doing feminism wrong!" and come off that way rather than implying to anyone "Ha, feminism!" or "Ha, women!" Ah, well, I did my best. But it's made me reluctant to try another plot thread for fear of resorting to lower-grade humor out of the need to keep the story going somehow in the very limited 140-characters-a-day format.

Not sure where I'm going from here. I do plan to continue, as I am enjoying the challenge and that fact that 59 people do in fact find it funny. If you are among the subscribers, thank you very much for indulging my little project. I am always interested in suggestions if you have any, and of course joke ideas. blendedchaitea* suggested I have Rhoda read Fifty Shades of Gray, which could be really funny... except it might mean I have to read it myself. And even for the sake of my art, I'm not sure I could subject myself to that...

Thursday, July 26, 2012

State of the Phoebe

As you may have surmised by my last two posts based mostly around throwing up images, I have not felt very talkative or interesting the last several days. Overtime at work and lots of responsibilities have eaten up my brainspace. But I am committed to trying to post something every day to keep me always writing, even if it's just something short, even if I don't have anything particularly fascinating to say. So today in that spirit, I'm just going to give a general update on my life.

Work has been busy. I have mostly adjusted to accomodating my new responsibilities, but they fill my time a lot more tightly. This week I worked late several times in order to get things done by their deadlines. I need to limit my time at work so I can do homework without losing my mind, but I can use the extra money, as my budget's been a little tight recently.

Socially I've been somewhat withdrawn. Tiredness, a feeling of having nothing to say, and a desire for solitary pursuits have led me to retreat into my own company. It has allowed me to be very productive recently, which pleases me. I have worked out a lot, as well as worked on writing and sewing projects. I do miss hosting dinner parties, though. Haven't done it at all lately due to the being busy, weary, and in a budget crunch.

I am now preparing to go into the extremely brief, very high-intensity DREAM rehearsal period this August. Apparently it will last... two weeks. Hm. I seem to recall hearing at the audition that the process would be about a month, but apparently we've got two weeks. I know this is supposed to be a somewhat abbreviated, high-intensity, nontraditional production of Midsummer, but yikes. Got my script in the mail the other day, and as we are expected to come in off-book I have dutifully begun work. It's a pretty decent cut, slightly rearranged and pared down. As memorization goes, Midsummer is an easy show for it, as the dialogue is so musical. Helena in particular has some lovely speeches. I've got six scenes, and I'm already solid on the first one. I have also not cut my hair as per the director's request, though it's gotten so flat and lifeless it's driving me crazy. I want to just go get it trimmed and the layers touched back up without reducing the length, but hairdressers have a long history of ignoring my requests to not shorten it too much, and I really don't want to accidentally violate my promise to the director.

I have been working away at my school assignments. Mostly I've done the reading, I have quite a few plays and comic books to get through. As I mentioned, I've also started reworking Mrs. Hawking, the results of which you can read here. But there's a ton more to do. More reading, a plotting exercise, planning for my craft essay, planning more for the comic. I've really got to buckle down. I also need to start submitting my plays to more places for consideration for performance. Apparently some of my colleagues submit to like fifteen places a month in order to get anything at all, which I definitely haven't been doing. I just don't know where to find the submission opportunities. But I guess I'd better start looking.

So I'm a little stressed, a little withdrawn. But I seem to be getting things done.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

How lovely is Amy Brenneman

If you could look like anyone, who would you look like?

I have been watching a lot of Judging Amy. It's a great show and I should write about it. But all I can think about right now is how if I could look like anyone in the world, I'd look like Amy Brenneman. I love her wild dark curls, I love her refined features, I love her lean, sleek figure. I even love the way she's aging, how even the lines appearing on her face are elegant. I bet she looks just as good first thing in the morning, a quality I've always aspired to. In fact, probably why I'd pick her is because she's everything I aspire to with my looks-- the perfection I wish I had.

amy_brenneman_3

violet_private_practice

amy_brenneman_1

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Mass grave

This marker is in the Mt. Feake cemetary in Waltham on the way I always walk into town.

massgrave

It says "In tribute to the individuals interred here who resided at the Ferdinand Center and Metropolitan State Hospital and those from all other walks of life. May their memory continue to shine and never be forgotten."

With all that open space behind it... is there any chance this is a mass grave for paupers and mental patients from bygones times?

Is there any chance this isn't?

Monday, July 23, 2012

Recipe: baked breaded squash with tomato sauce

I've done so little cooking recently, partially due to being busy and partially due to a lack of energy, but I'm finally making time for it again. What I've been meaning to do for some time is start experimenting more, and writing my own recipes.

When my parents visited this weekend, my dad gave me two great big yellow squash that he grew in his garden. In order to make use of them, I decided tonight to make one of the very first recipes I ever devised myself, a variant on eggplant parmesan that has neither eggplant nor parmesan. For just me, I decided to use just one of the yellow squash.

yellowsquash

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. I sliced up the squash, then filled three pie plates with breading ingredients-- one with pan searing flour, one with two raw beaten eggs, and one with panko. I ran the squash coins through them one after the other and laid them on a wire rack. Then I heated up some olive oil in my ten-inch saute pan. I think I use this piece of cookware more than any other I own, so if you're going to invest in any decent pan, make it this one. I used it now to brown the breaded coins over medium-high heat. My mom recommended this combination of the flour, egg, and panko because it makes sure the breading will stick to the squash rather than come off in the pan. I remember the first time I put this recipe together, it all came off and I had to scoop it all out with a spatula. If you've got the heat right, it should take about two minutes per side to properly brown the pieces.

browningsquash

After browning them, I drained them for a moment back on the wire rack. Then I took the pie plate with the few remaining panko crumbs and laid the largest slices across the bottom of it.

squashinpieplate

Then I covered it with a layer of tomato sauce. Ideally you'd make your own, but the jarred stuff is fine, and I had some left over in the fridge.

squashandsaucelayers

Lay the next layer of eggplant coins over it and cover that too with sauce. It would also be good to include cheese-- I used mozzarella the first time, but parmesan or something would work too --but I'm lactose intolerant, and I don't want the calories anyway, so I left it out.

finishedsquashsauce

Lastly, you put the whole thing into the 375-degree oven for thirty minutes for the squash to get soft and roasty. See, it's kind of like eggplant parmesan... except, as I said, no eggplant and no parmesan. Tasty, vegetarian, fairly easy even though you end up messing a lot of dishes, and I used only things I already had in my pantry and fridge to make it.

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #17: an extreme scene for Mrs. Hawking


Today I did my first real reworking of Mrs. Hawking based on my teacher's early advice. One of the things I was told to try was to get into the meat of the story quicker. I was a little resentful of this, because in the pieces I was using as models, they certainly were not expected to tear into the action by the second scene. Coward's a perfect example. I've been rereading Blithe Spirit and I think it's great, but you cannot say this piece doesn't take its sweet old time meandering from point to point. But I've got to at least give it a try, so I pondered that today, and what I decided was to do something outlandish. Something slightly unbelievable, but intense, something that forced the characters to ACT rather than be restrained by their social mores and personal preferences. And you know, I kind of like it. At least the bones of it. Maybe I don't want it to replace the early scenes I've already got. But I'm at least glad that in trying to take my teacher's very early advice I may have generated something I feel good about for this piece.

(A well-dressed upper middle class woman, MRS. CELESTE FAIRMONT, sits in her fancy parlor, fretting. The bell rings and MRS. FAIRMONT leaps up to answer it. It is MARY in a walking hat. MRS. FAIRMONT starts exaggeratedly.)

MRS. FAIRMONT: Oh, my goodness!

MARY: Forgive me for this intrusion at this hour, but I must speak to Mrs. Celeste Fairmont.

MRS. FAIRMONT: I am she. Who are you?

MARY: I am Mary Stone, I’ve recently come into the employ of Mrs. Victoria Hawking.

MRS. FAIRMONT: Mrs. Hawking sent you?

MARY: Ah-- not as such. But madam didn’t come home last night, and according to her appointment book she was engaged to see you that evening. Begging your pardon, but I didn’t know what else to do but come and ask if you knew her whereabouts.

MRS. FAIRMONT: She was indeed here last night… but she hasn't returned. Not yet.

MARY: Did you expect her? Do you know where she went?

MRS. FAIRMONT: I, ah, I cannot precisely say--

(There is a crashing sound outside. The ladies' heads whip around.)

MRS. FAIRMONT: What was that?

(A commotion of running feet and raised voices from a gang of people outside. MARY runs to the window beside the door and looks out.)

MARY: There's a whole gang of ruffians!

MRS. FAIRMONT: Oh, God!

(The second window starts to scrape and grind open. A figure dressed in black begins to climb in. Again MRS. FAIRMONT panics and makes small sounds of terror, cowering behind a chair. MARY seizes the poker from the fireplace and places herself between the figure and MRS. FAIRMONT. The figure drops catlike to the floor, then stands, cradling one arm in pain. The masked face turns to look at the women.)

MARY: Stop! Stop right there!

MRS. HAWKING: Mary?

(MARY stops in shock, letting the poker drop a little. The figure pulls off the mask to reveal MRS. HAWKING.)

MARY: Mrs. Hawking!?

(Briefly MRS. HAWKING examines her injured arm. MARY lets the poker clatter to the ground.)

MRS. FAIRMONT: Is that blood?

MARY: Are you hurt?

(MRS. HAWKING runs to the door and peers through the peephole.)

MARY: What-- what's happened to you?

MRS. HAWKING: No matter now. Celeste, where are they?

MRS. FAIRMONT: I don’t know, I don’t know!

MARY: They’re nearby but they haven’t come here yet.

MRS. HAWKING: Thank God.

(She goes about securing the windows.)

MRS. FAIRMONT: Why are they here?

MRS. HAWKING: Because I was sloppy. Very sloppy.

MRS. FAIRMONT: What are we to--?

(There is a hard thumping at the door. MRS. FAIRMONT freezes. She and MARY both look to MRS. HAWKING.)

MRS. HAWKING: They cannot find me here.

(She ducks into a closet. There is another THUMP THUMP THUMP. MARY and MRS. FAIRMONT look at each other. MARY slowly goes to answer the door. MRS. FAIRMONT collapses stiffly into a chair. MARY opens the door to a large man, COLCHESTER, dressed in rough clothes.)

MARY: Fairmont residence. May I help you?

COLCHESTER: There’s been some commotion in the neighborhood.

MARY: Yes, we heard.

(He pushes past MARY into the room and takes a few steps around, looking.)

COLCHESTER: There’s a dangerous person about. We was after them just now but it seems they’ve disappeared. You haven’t seen nothing?

MARY: I’m sure we’ve no idea what you’re speaking of.

COLCHESTER: What are you all doing up and about at this hour?

MARY: We were disturbed by the noise! And by banging at the door in the wee hours of the morning!

(He moves very close to the closet where MRS. HAWKING is hiding.)

COLCHESTER: And you don’t have any notion of where this fellow went off to?

MARY: Of course we don’t! Now I must insist that you leave! You have frightened Mrs. Fairmont quite enough.

(MARY goes back to the door and holds it open for him. COLCHESTER looks around once more, then nods once and moves toward it.)

COLCHESTER: Right, then. Good evening to you ladies.

MARY: Good evening, sir.

(The man goes out the door. She closes it behind him and exhales heavily. MRS. FAIRMONT buries her face in her hands and gives a sob of relief. MRS. HAWKING emerges from the closet.)

MRS. HAWKING: That was quite splendid of you, Mary.

MARY: Mrs. Hawking, this is-- this is highly irregular!

(MRS. HAWKING goes to peer out the window.)

MRS. HAWKING: Good, they're clearing out now.

MRS. FAIRMONT: Thank God! Oh, how awful that was!

MRS. HAWKING: Entirely my fault, Mrs. Fairmont. I was spotted due ot an error in my calculations. I very much apologize for drawing them on to you.

MRS. FAIRMONT: Have they discovered us, then?

MRS. HAWKING: Fortunately, no. They never saw my face. The enterprise is still secure.

MARY: Mrs. Hawking!

MRS. HAWKING: Well, perhaps not entirely. Mary, whatever are you doing here?

MARY: Looking for you! When you didn't return last night-- Mrs. Hawking-- I beg your pardon, but I must insist that you tell me what all this is about.

MRS. HAWKING: Mary, please--

MARY: Mrs. Hawking! I must insist.

(MRS. HAWKING considers. Finally she nods.)

MRS. HAWKING: Very well. You've done a great deal this evening without being asked... you've the right to ask something of me.

(She looks to MRS. FAIRMONT.)

MRS. HAWKING: Celeste... perhaps we should begin at the beginning.

Time well spent

I have been using my time very well lately.

I have had long workouts almost every day for the last two weeks, including walking, weights, and a good deal of ballet practice.

I have done good writing, if not necessarily anything I can post yet, nothing's quite complete enough to make sense. Should try to whip something into readable shape.

I've started on a new sewing project, the Foxy Boxer Shorts from Sew Everything Workshop by Diana Rupp, my beginner sewing text. They are sort of complicated and I've already made mistakes, but what I need right now is actual, physical, tactile practice.

I've been reading good plays. I haven't been doing a lot of literary reading lately, so it's a nice change.

I've started cooking again, after not really having the time for quite a while. Now all I need to do is start having dinner parties again. I miss them.

I just got my DREAM script in the mail. Now I need to start getting off-book. Really looking forward to acting off of Jonathan as Demetrius.

I have not, by contrast, been terribly social. I've been feeling a little withdrawn recently and wanted time alone to do things.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

"The Soiling of Old Glory"

My parents were in town this weekend. We had a lovely time walking around the city, eating and seeing the sights. Mom and Dad lived here for a long time before they had us kiddies, and they like to show us places they used to go back then. Mom asked me if I'd ever seen the following picture:

Ted-Landsmark-flag-stabbing-19761

The name of this image is The Soiling of Old Glory, taken by Stanley Forman in 1976 during a series of protests against court-ordered desegrated busing and the winner of 1977 Pulitzer Prize. The man under attack in the image is Ted C. Landsmark, a remarkable Boston figure who is a lawyer, a civil rights activist, and the president of the Boston Architectural College. Back in 1976, he was also the properietor of a small, non-profit Boston art gallery who sent all monetary benefits to the artists that displayed in it. This art gallery had only one employee-- my mother, then only twenty-four years old, getting her masters in fine art downtown. She says he was a very cool man. And I think it's cool that she knew him.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Intimate Apparel, by Lynn Nottage




I read a play tonight that was recommended by my teacher tonight called Intimate Apparel, by Lynn Nottage. She suggested it because she thought it might help me write my play for the semester, Mrs. Hawking. I enjoyed the piece a great deal. It's about a black seamstress in 1905 New York trying to figure out what to do with her life now that she's thirty-five and has been alone for so long. It's sad and lovely, particularly a moment involving Esther the seamstress and the Orthodox Jewish man she buys fabric from. They are developing feelings for each other but of course nothing can ever come of it, and when she starts weeping because of a generous gift he gives her, he wants to comfort her but cannot touch her because he is shomar negiyah. I think my teacher recommended it because of the theme of a woman wanting to take control of her own life, resisting the circumstances society places her in, and do something meaningful with herself, as well as the strong female relationships, the way people can live for each other. I am still trying to parse out what to draw from the piece, how to quantify what I should take away and apply to my own work, but I thought the play was extremely effective. I also loved the sewing and garment descriptions-- the tactile luxury of the materials, the loving outpouring of the self into the craft. That sort of thing just... sucks me up. There's something holy in handmade things, and this play captured that very well.

God, I need to sew. And write. Both together.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The hidden mysteries in my ethnic background

My grandmother certainly considered herself to be white. Her name was Julia Leone, nee Gush, and though I never had the chance to ask her about it or anything, that was still pretty clear. She had plenty of reason to. She had skin that was within the reason range of shades for a white person and no features that marked her otherwise. Her maiden name had any indication of ethnicity mangled out of it before she was born, while her married name, though Italian, was white enough. Her husband was white; she was even the mother of a pink-skinned, green-eyed, yellow-haired girl-- the proverbial angelic blonde child. The culture she sprang from and identified with is white culture. If you saw a picture of her, chances are you would not think anything different.

But really... my grandmother wasn't all white. Not completely. She was a first-generation Russian-American. Both of her parents emigrated from Russia in the early Twentieth Century. They met, married, and had eleven children in a small town outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, one of whom was my grandmother Julia. They spoke Russian, worshipped at a Russian Orthodox Church, and identified with the associated ethnicity. My great-grandmother Anna Sherba was fair and blonde, the source of Mom's looks, so unlike either of her parents. This is not an usual appearence for an ethnic Russian, but I was very surprised to hear it-- after all, Grandma, the foremost representative of Russian blood in my life, had sharp features and dark coloring. But that's because of my great grandfather, Tymko Gush, known sometimes as James Gush, whose real surname was lost to Americanization a hundred years ago. According to my Mom, he had tan skin, high cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes. To look at him, he was not a white man, he was obviously Asian.

Because of the Mongolian conquest of the area that would become Russia, there are parts of it where the inhabitants have quite a bit of Asian blood. I'm not positive, but my great-grandfather may have even been Siberian, where it is particularly common. Because of this his ethnicity would be hard to qualify, since he was likely the product of generations of mixed people marrying other mixed people, but he was probably some proportion of Asian and white. That combination is likely the reason why my grandmother looked as white as she did. But it makes me wonder-- what did my great-grandfather consider himself? Did he think of the white versus nonwhite issue? Or was he just "a Russian," a more important distinction in a new country where so few share your ways and customs? I have no idea if there's any conflict between Russians of pure Caucasian decent and the Russians who have some Asian in them. In America, I know pretty much every immigrant in my family suffered some poor treatment from someone on account of their ethnic background. Did my great-grandfather ever get treated differently for someone recognizing him to be nonwhite?

I think of my immediate family. Now on the third generation in this country, my family appears very white, and benefits from the associated privilege. In fact, people have assumed that we must have the very highest level of privilege that being white in this country can possibly confer on you because of how well we present-- that we're not descendents of relatively recent immigrants (we are), that we do not have a close working class history (we do), that we come from people who are rich and educated (we don't). My grandparents-- poor, uneducated, and foreign --did not experience that same privilege. Their backgrounds made them targets for all kinds of hate and discrimination; even my mother and father faced some of that growing up. But still, the time and place my grandmother lived, when you're already suffering because you're ethnic, well, at least you're not tormented for being nonwhite. Getting to claim whiteness was some status better than none. So I guess it's not so strange that my grandma would forget or ignore that part of herself. After all, people tend to consider you to be what you look like. When she looked around, in the mirror or at her blonde daughter, it was probably easy to forget.

Tymko Gush, however, is not the only one I wonder about on that side. My great-grandmother Anna makes me wonder as well. She came to this country from Galitzia, a small area that has been owned by several countries but at the time was Russia, at the age of seventeen to escape the Bolsheviks. At the time, many Jewish families were fleeing from the exact same place to America as well. Her first job in the country was working as a maid for a Jewish family. And I realized when I came to Brandeis that many of the weird "family words" we'd been using-- nebbish, noodge, schmatta --were Yiddish, and had come into use because Anna used them. Those are small things, but they made me wonder... could my great-grandmother have actually been born a Jew?

My mother scoffs at the idea. That blonde ethnic Russian? This was the woman who took her to church every Sunday, who was devoutly Russian Orthodox her entire life. She explains the Yiddish with Anna's maid job when she was first learning English, so their words became her words. (Also, it turned out we used them mostly wrong.) Mom's almost certainly right; of course she knew the woman and I never did. But I can't help wondering, if for only one reason-- Anna Sherba was my mother's mother's mother. So if she was Jewish, then under the law, so are we. So am I.

I know myself to be a white Christian. Though I acknowledge my background to be infintessimally nonwhite, I think it would be silly to consider myself as anything else. That part of me is extremely small and extremely distant from me, plus I see a pale face and Caucasian features when I look in the mirror. But it's fascinating to know it's there in my background-- that I'm a little more complex than meets the eye. And I'm a Christian in my bones. I've heard of people discovering their Jewish heritage and deciding to return to it, but I can't imagine why that alone would be enough to draw you. It certainly wouldn't compel me. But how strange to think that a fact in the past could possibly make something true, that, without its acknowledgement, seems like a fanciful impossibility. I could, technically, be a Jew. It doesn't change me... but it changes something.

Funny how these things work.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

I am not comfortable with how much I love this

I don't know where this came from, except from a retweet by , exhorting us to all understand how sexy this is.



I am uncomfortable right now . I don't want him to be this hot. But I don't get to make the rules.

Early thoughts on Marvel movies to come

They've released the titles for the upcoming Marvel movies. We knew it was going to be Iron Man 3, but the others are Thor: The Dark World and Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Lately I have been trying to avoid to much Internet mumbling about new media I want to see, because I was spoiling myself right and left. So I am mostly just going to wait and see how these three films are, but I still like to muse about what's coming even with no information to go on.

hallofarmor

I've heard rumblings about finally dealing with Tony's downward spiraling in Iron Man 3. I was a little disappointed with Iron Man 2 in that he acted like such a self-destructive ass and got basically no consequences for it. We even see him and Pepper happy together in The Avengers. What I wanted was for his asinine behavior to destroy his relationships, and while he is able to pull it together to defeat the bad guys and appear to the public as a hero, to feel like he has nothing because in private his personal life has been ruined. Then the challenge for the next film would be to rebuild it. Sad that couldn't happen. But at least they're hinting that they're going to be dealing with those things in the third installment. I love the character of Tony, his asshole tendecies and all, but I would like him to see consequences for all that garbage.

Basically I have no idea what The Dark World is going to be about. (Chris Hemsworth's bare chest is my personal hope.) All I can say is I've got my fingers crossed that it has Loki in it. He's been roundly defeated in the last two films he was present in, so they may be done with him as a villain, but still, he's such a fabulous character and Tom Hiddleston's performance is so good that I hope he's present in some capacity. It actually might be interesting if he's NOT the villain, but a side character of some sort that has vaguely antagonistic but complicated interactions with Thor. I find the brothers' relationship very interesting, given the whole love/hate thing, and that could add interesting growth and dimension.

As for Captain America, I am SO HAPPY that the next plot will involve the Winter Soldier. So much opportunity for emotional conflict when Cap realizes that his dear friend, whose death he thought was his fault, is not only alive, but now is his enemy. With this vulnerable portrayal of Cap, that will be so awesome. I hope they bring back pretty, pretty Sebastian Stan back to play him. Even if they have to grow his hair our and fuck up that gorgeous face a little. I must confess at first glance, seeing that dark-haired fox in that WWII-era military uniform, I thought he might have actually been hotter than Cap. Given that we first encounter him beside Scrawny Steve (TM) probably didn't hurt. But you know how it goes-- girl meets boys, girl first goes after the hot friend, girl ends up falling in real love with boy standing beside him. A love story with a classic twist. ;-)

You know what I don't want? I don't want Sharon Carter. I don't want Sharon Carter. Have I mentioned that I really really don't want Sharon Carter? It is completely creepy to date somebody because they remind you of a younger version of a relative of theirs. Do not make Cap creepy. I have been creeped on by people with, "My God, you look just like your mother." It is not a socially acceptable thing to do. Do not make Cap do that. Please, please, please.

I get that he and Peggy missed their chance and now he has to deal with that. I find that gorgeously tragic. But a huge part of this character, that his first movie went out of its way to established, is that he was waiting for the One. Lots of people are capable of loving many people, but Steve isn't like that. That's not his character, he doesn't fall lightly. To him Peggy was special enough in a way that is not easily replicated. Now that he can't be with her, that's going to rip him up because of how singular their connection was to him. It's going to take him time to DEAL with that, a LOT of time before he could realistically get over that-- I want to see at least one more movie of him going through that grieving process, as there was pretty much nothing about it in Avengers. I heard that for time issues they had to cut a scene of him visiting a ninety-year-old Peggy, but that's going to DRIVE HOME the tragedy in a tangible way, not get him passed it. We need at least one film where we get to watch him grieve.

Frankly, I would find it so much more moving if they left him single and never had to hook him up with anybody else. I like the idea that his value system makes him act in a way that's markedly different from most others. So, for contrast, let's watch Tony schtupp Pepper, Clint and Natasha hook up, Bruce bang Betty, and Jane Foster ride the lightning with Thor... and then have Steve quietly love Peggy and miss what they might have had. I know that "moving on" is usually considered to be the universal healing act for all romantic loss, but I think it would suit Steve's singular character and make for a beautiful tragedy if there could never be anyone else. I am admittedly a sucker for lovers who find the One, and there can never be anyone else. I know that's not for everyone, I'm not saying it should be, but I think it's beautiful when that's how a soul works out. But if they absolutely HAVE to make him "move on" to someone else-- which I'm sure they will, because God forbid there be no romance for the hero, despite the already nonstandard way they've portrayed Steve's sexuality so far --I just want one fucking movie where he takes the time to grieve, and after that the new woman is anyone but Sharon fucking Carter.

It's going to be Sharon Carter, isn't it? Gross.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Some reasons why I love Movie-Cap

As I’ve mentioned, I always found the comic book Steve Rogers to be completely boring. I understand that they wanted his true power to be his unerring moral compass, but he’s perfect in every other way too—he is always sure of himself, he has no fears, no psychological damage… no personality, really. Some like Bernie will debate this to the death with me, but that’s how I see it. But now that he's been depicted on the big screen... I am in love. I find the move version of the character fascinating, and I wanted to ramble a little bit about why. And I swear, it's not just because I want to jump his perfectly formed bones.

Traditionally in comic books, male characters are depicted as masculine self-insertion fantasies. They are extremely strong, emotionally invulnerable, and of course they are very attractive to the women in the universe. This is not because they are depicted as what women actually find attractive, but because the female characters are acting in the service of the masculine fantasy. They look like what male readers supposedly want to look like, and the women are attracted in the way the readers would like them to be.

But this tendency is what contributes to that huge big problem that comics book have in how often they give off a powerful vibe to women of “THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.” Superhero comic books often indulge hypermasculine fantasy concepts— such as high violence, low emotion, powerful men and sexualized women —and most of the people who are conditioned to find those fantasies appealing are men. And if you don’t have that conditioning, you don’t often find shaved bear men built like refrigerators to be all that relatable. I mean, in one particularly egregrious example, take a look at how notoriously terrible artist Rob Leifeld depicts Cap:

leifeldcap

Um... yuck? This is exaggeration, not idealization. And yeah, this is worse even than usual, but it's the extreme of a ubiquitous problem. And I find it stomach-turningly offputting.

Given this theory of what masculinity "should be," there is a long history of when a lot of women find a certain man particularly alluring, other men start deriding that man on the grounds that said alluring qualities make him unmanly or even gay. Often it's for excessive prettiness, or just for not being as traditionally masculine as a desirable man should be under their schema. I read that Rudolph Valentino got a lot of that back in the day, and modern day examples include Orlando Bloom and even Justin Bieber. It stems from a combination of envy for their desirability with ideas about how caring about one's looks is supposed to be a feminine responsibility, how men can't be hot because only men care about hotness, so if a man is hot it's gay.

But to play Captain America in the film, they didn’t find a shaved bear of a man with a shape like a refrigerator. Quite the contrary, they found an exceptionally beautiful man. And the difference that makes is unbelievable. It’s not just the fact that I’m a shallow person who really enjoys looking at beautiful men. (Though I am.) It's that in presenting me with a person who is pleasing to my eye, as opposed to an earlier conception of the same person who is less so, they are acknowledging that my eye and others like mine are in the audience. And more than just acknowledging me, they are are courting my viewership. This beautiful man makes me want to come look, to join that audience. For rising out of a medium that has so much history of scaring the female audience off, that is a remarkable turnabout.

But that's not the only subversive, even progressive aspect of how the film portrayed Steve. For how sexy and gorgeous he is, and how we are allowed to regard him in that capacity, he is not excessively or inappropriately sexualized. He's actually a virgin, pretty explicitly so. This is in the face of the enormous cultural stigma against men with no sexual experience. But the film does not portray this as a negative, unmanly thing; far from it, it is one more thing that shapes the admirable man Steve is. Yeah, he was the kind of dork that some associate with being a virgin, but more than that, it's about his personal value system. He has his own strict code of conduct, something that's very important to him. He's the sort of person who wants to wait for the one, for real love, and anything less isn't enough for him. It's so earnest and decent that we respect him for sticking to this belief system even though it doesn't conform to our own. I find that massively progressive. I mentioned this in my initial review of the film, but it bears repeating: how cool is it that they made a tough, masculine action hero that dudes want to be like with VIRGIN stamped on his forehead? And frankly, I find incredibly attractive.

And you know what, I just plain like beautiful men. Not even necessarily in a stroke material sort of way. I DESPISE how often it is a asserted that by "objective aesthetic sensibilities" the female form is inherently more beautiful than the male one. That's such male-gaze-influenced garbage. I love the masculine figure, and even beyond sexual attraction, I just enjoy basking in the beauty of it. Especially a man like Chris Evans. Dreamy blue eyes, perfectly styled good boy hair, full lips, lovely cheekbones, strong jaw. And that body-- well, suffice it to say, like a work of art, I could just look at him all day.

steverogers1

There are other small adjustments that make the character more human and appealing. This Steve Rogers is young. In the comics he’s a more mature presence, but in the movie they made him more of a boy. This I think was an excellent decision. (Especially in contrast with Tony, who is more of a man, but that's another discussion entirely.) Young people are less formed, have had less time to grow past their issues and figure themselves out. This allows for Steve to not be totally sure of himself, to not have a complete handle on the things that he's insecure about. And he's insecure here, in a beautiful, human, sympathetic way. Leading up to the procedure, he was a complete dork. Even when people are no longer the person that they used to be, the self-image created by their previous state doesn’t just disappear. Having spent more than twenty years as a skinny, awkward nerd that got picked on and ignored, a modest guy like him is not going to shake feeling like that nerd right away. Even after a magical transformation into his current Adonis-like state. That insecurity adds a dimension of humanity, that he may look perfect on the outside, but on the inside, he sometimes feels awkward, unsure, and not very special, just like real people do. And you know what else? Sometimes even perfect Captain America is awkward! Steve Rogers is not a smooth operator. I find it unbelievably cute that he's not worldly, doesn't know how to talk to girls, and sometimes trips over the right thing to do or say. I get the feeling that we sometimes think really desirable guys often have a really arrogant attitude in regards to other people, like "I can have any woman I want, what makes you good enough for me?" But there's no superior attitude there at all-- in fact, he sometimes isn't comfortable with himself. So he would never make anyone feel like they're not good enough.

Finally, I was reading a well-written article on The Good Men Project that was about how female dominants more often exist in the form of desiring the position of control and comparative emotional strength, rather than the classic image of the smacky woman in black leather. I was not so interested in the BDSM aspect of it, but I did connect with how it posits, quote, that “The key component of the female gaze… is vulnerability.” Emotional nakedness rather than emotional armor. I had never thought about it that way, but upon reflection it feels true to me. The fact that they included that youth and insecurity in this conception of the character confers a real vulnerability on him. I love that he's such a good man, the fact that that goodness is his real power. He's endlessly courageous, self-sacrificing, and decent. But he's not always sure of himself, not full of himself despite his own goodness. And yes, yes, that vulnerability is SEXY.

This has gone on way too long, so best to stop there. But those are some of the reasons I can't stop thinking about Movie-Cap. <3

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Beginning work on my graphic novel project

Right now I'm doing my first bit of actually productive work on figuring out the plot for my graphic novel assignment. I always have trouble when I try to start a project without already have an idea for it, as opposed to starting the project because I was struck by an idea. But I think I've got at least the seedling of a plotline. Ages ago, I wrote a ten minute play set in the same universe as To Think of Nothing, about the first actress to play the role of Selene in Cassander's play being afraid that she's not good enough for the role, and not good enough for her acclaimed director, who she regards with a kind of reverence that might hint at something more. I like the bones of that play, but it should really be rewritten now that I've grown as a writer. I want to adapt the idea of this piece for the comic, because I click with the concept at least enough to begin, though I am still deciding how much I want to stick to it or deviate from it.

I go often to using theater as my subject matter, because I know and love it well. I can get engaged and write intelligently about the process of making theater. As of this writing, my two one acts that have been performed use theater as subject matter, To Think of Nothing and Merely Players. From there, To Think of Nothing spawned Fountain Thoughts, and that little piece I wrote to practice iambic pentameter. Eventually I'd like to write other things in that universe. Then there's Merely Players, from which I am in the practice of adapting the larp Break a Leg. There's also Just So, which lovingly mocks the kind of people that are sometimes drawn to theater. I hope to not overuse it, but when I'm having trouble figuring out what to work on it's a good shortcut to getting myself invested in the material.

The question now is whether to follow the thread as it appears in Fountain Thoughts or to just use it as a jumping-off point. I know I want a major concept in the piece to be a rivalry between two female artists, played by niobien* and blendedchaitea*. But a scene I worked on today that I am really feeling makes the most sense if Rachel's character, at least, is a dancer. Now, I could make it so they are both dancers and actresses-- certainly a thing that happens --but perhaps just to move myself away from my typical milieu I should make this a story about dance rather than theater. I'm even lucky in that my two first choice models are talented dancers. But if I did that, I'd be concerned that my lesser familiarity and understanding of that process would make me less able to depict an interested story within it. I guess I'll have to work on the plot a little more to figure out which setting would support it better. I just know I really like the one scene I did today, and that at least requires dance.



Friday, July 13, 2012

Good theater news

I have had two cool theater-related things occur in my life recently which I would now like to share. First of all, I am proud to announce that Sherlock Holmes: The Final Adventure has been nominated for five annual DASH awards by EMACT, the Eastern Massachusetts Association of Community Theaters. They are as follows:

Best Supporting Actor, Play - Stephen Turner (Dr. Watson)
Best Set Design - Tom Powers
Best Costume Design - Donna Roessler
Best Stage Management - Harry Manuel
Best Play

Except that Dr. Watson is clearly a lead and not a supporting character, this is cool, especially because I've been told these are the most awards for a single show that the TCAN Players have ever been up for. All our nominees are very deserving, but I'm especially proud of the Best Play nod, as our final product was pretty damn good.

dashaward

Now for the second bit of cool news. As you may have noticed, I put up an announcement about how DREAM, the reimagined Midsummer I'm going to be playing Helena in, still needed a few more actors. I will now have the privilege to be playing across Plesser as Demetrius and Nick Martucci as Peter Quince. I've never gotten to interact much with Plesser onstage, so I'm super excited about that. I also like the changing up of roles-- the first time we did this show, he was Lysander and I was Puck. In Charlotte's Liquid Latex dance, he was Bottom and I was Titania. Now we're Demetrius and Helena. And I understand that this will be Nick's triumphant return to theater after focusing on film for a long time, as well as his first Shakespearean role. Unfortunately there were other talented friends who were not selected, who I will very much miss working with, but I am glad for those who did get in.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #16: The Tailor of Riddling Way, Episode 3: What She Started


So off and on I've been working on back-engineering the script for the Tailor audio drama from the first draft of the Tailor screenplay I wrote for last semester. I think I have finished at least a first draft of the third installment, which I'm calling What She Started. Every installment has been a little bit shorter than the previous one, which I'm a bit concerned about, but maybe it doesn't really matter as long as the break points make sense. There will probably be one more episode after this to conclude the story.

If you read the screenplay, it's very similar but visual things are translated more into dialogue here. Instead of the viewer simply seeing a dusty bookshelf of classical texts in one corner of the bedroom, Tom comments on it here. I confess I am a little dissastisfied that I haven't managed to fix certain things about the story that my teacher pointed out. Like, for example, he thinks I should have Officer Crier appear again before the very end, so this episode would be the one for it. But I still haven't figured out how to make him come back. So this script will likely need editing from the version below. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know. This is something I will definitely need for the second draft of the screenplay, and I think it would improve the audio drama as well.



THE TAILOR OF RIDDLING WAY
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Episode 3:
What She Started

~~~
SCENE 3.1

SETTING: Loring’s End

CONSTANCE: Are you quite finished yet?

TOM: Just about, ma’am. I just want to be sure I have your measurements precisely.

CONSTANCE: Any color but yellow. It battles with my complexion.

TOM: Yes, I have that down.

CONSTANCE: Or blue, I will not have blue. And I can’t abide blackwork, it’s very provincial.

TOM: Not to worry, ma’am.

ALICE: Mr. Barrows knows all this, Auntie. He’s going to make lovely dresses for us, don’t you worry.

CONSTANCE: I should hope so. He is being paid well enough for it.

(Exit CONSTANCE.)

ALICE: Sorry about that, Tom. Aunt Constance can be very… particular, when she cares to be.

TOM: Oh, not at all. That’s little enough, believe me. Nothing at all compared to exactly recreating a twenty-year-old ball gown from a newspaper picture.

ALICE: I can’t imagine why Emma was so particular about it.

TOM: It had to be exact, she was very clear about that. But the picture was all she had to give me.

(Pause.)

TOM: Alice? Is there something wrong?

ALICE: Then… why did she ask you to come here?

TOM: I… told her I didn’t think I had enough to go on. That was when she asked me to come, she said she had something that might… help?

ALICE: What might help?

TOM: She never said.

ALICE: What if… she had something else to show you?

TOM: Like what?

ALICE: Tom… what if it was the original dress?

TOM: Do you think she still had it?

ALICE: I don’t know… but I think we can find out.

SCENE 3.2

SETTING: Loring’s End master bedroom

TOM: Alice, why are we here? We shouldn’t be doing this.

ALICE: There’s nowhere else to look. I’ve been in the attic and the basement and I’ve never seen it there. If that dress is still in this house, it’s got to be in here.

TOM: If your aunt and uncle catch us poking around in their bedroom—

ALICE: Then we’ll have to be quick.

(The door creaks open.)

ALICE: As long as we don’t touch Aunt Constance’s medicines, she’ll never know we were here.

TOM: Who reads Latin? And Greek?

ALICE: I’m sorry?

TOM: All those books on the shelf… whose are they?

ALICE: I don’t know.

TOM: They’re all dusty. Looks like no one’s touched them in years.

ALICE: Tom! This way!

TOM: What is it?

ALICE: In the closet. I saw something in here once… a curtain in the back. I didn’t think much of it then, but now…

(The curtain is pulled aside. ALICE draws in a breath.)

ALICE: Ohhhhhh! Tom... that’s it. That’s the dress. It’s beautiful. It’s...

TOM: No.

ALICE: Tom? What is it?

TOM: It’s wrong.

ALICE: What’s wrong?

TOM: The gown. It’s… made all wrong.

ALICE: What do you mean?

TOM: Look at it! Look at the pulls in the weave!

ALICE: It’s seen some rough handling, Tom, Bethany was murdered in it.

TOM: You don’t understand. It’s not draped properly. My mother was an artist, she never would have handed off something so flawed.

ALICE: I’m sure she never—

TOM: Alice, look at this!

ALICE: Tom, be careful with that!

TOM: Satin should flow like water, but this hangs so heavy it left pulls in that perfect Chinese weave.

ALICE: If my aunt sees—

TOM: And look at the bulk in the seams! My mother’s seams were crisp, not thick like these! Feel that!

(There is a papery crackling sound as Tom compresses the seams with his fingers.)

ALICE: What is that?

TOM: I don’t… where’s my pocket knife?

ALICE: What are you doing? If my aunt sees this—

(There is a slicing sound as the knife slides through the fabric.)

ALICE: Tom! You’re destroying it! Stop!

TOM: Alice… look…

ALICE: How could you do that—?

TOM: Look!

ALICE: Is that… paper?

TOM: It’s… lots of papers. Sewn up inside here.

(The papers crinkle as they pull them out and unfold them.)

ALICE: They’re documents! “…this agreement does hereby affirm that Loring Incorporated Textiles shall provide material supplies in the amount of twenty thousand bolts of uniform-rated twill to the… Gesellschaft Donner… until such time as the martial requirements are fulfilled.” There’s more written here, but I think it’s in German.

TOM: German? Uniform-rated twill… does it have a date on it?

ALICE: It was signed on May 14th, 1915… by Herr Freidrich Donner and Mr. Reginald Loring. A deal with a German, in 1915… selling them cloth…

TOM: He was outfitting the army.

ALICE: No. No. My father was a soldier, he died fighting the Germans.

TOM: He was a collaborator.

ALICE: This what he was doing! This is what Emma found, what my father hated him for!

TOM: Stay calm, Alice.

ALICE: Remember what Father said in his letter— Bethany was being married off to secure his devil’s bargain! This was the bargain, and Grandfather was selling Bethany to that devil!

TOM: Alice, please—

ALICE: He made everyone think he was such a pillar of the town, a patriot and a— a decent man!

TOM: Keep your voice down!

ALICE: This is treason! He was a traitor! And here’s the proof, hidden in Bethany’s dress! Why? Why is it here?

TOM: I don’t know. But… Emma must have.

(Flashback effect.)

SCENE 3.3

SETTING: Loring’s End, 1917

BETHANY: Hello. Are you the seamstress?

ABIGAIL: I am. My name is Abigail Barrows. I hope you’ll find my work to your liking.

EMMA: Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Barrows. I trust you’ve been told Bethany here is soon to have her coming out ball?

ABIGAIL: Yes, indeed.

EMMA: She’ll be needing something special to wear. Something suitable for the event.

ABIGAIL: I very much understand. Something to make her seem more a woman than a girl.

EMMA: Exactly, thank you, madam.

ABIGAIL: I’ll just take your measurements, then, miss. Lift your arms, please.

BETHANY: Oh. Like this?

ABIGAIL: Thank you. I know just the thing. A straight skirt to lengthen the leg, a close-fitting bodice to flatter a delicate figure. The material will come dear, though, with the rationing…

EMMA: Not to worry. We have secured it already. Please, have a look at this bolt.

BETHANY: Do you think you can use it?

ABIGAIL: Oh, my! I haven’t seen so much fine silk since before the war!

BETHANY: Most decent people haven’t.

ABIGAIL: However did you get it?

EMMA: Our family deals in textiles of all varieties. Such are our spoils.

ABIGAIL: You have lovely taste. It will suit you well, Miss Bethany. I would suggest beading it in dark blue and ivory, to best set off the color. Beadwork is my specialty, you see.

BETHANY: That does sounds beautiful.

ABIGAIL: I’m very glad you think so. I will make sketches of the design for you and send them over. Did you want to talk about your wedding gown in this visit as well?

BETHANY: My what?

EMMA: I beg your pardon, Mrs. Barrows?

ABIGAIL: I’m sorry, it was something Mr. Loring said…

EMMA: What did our father say, Mrs. Barrows?

ABIGAIL: He said he wanted to engage me for more than just the ball gown. He wanted me to make Miss Bethany’s wedding dress as well.

BETHANY: Why would he tell you that? Emma, why would I need a wedding dress?

ABIGAIL: Perhaps I misunderstood…?

EMMA: No, I don’t think you did. Bethany, dear, I believe Father’s plans for you have become entirely clear.

BETHANY: Oh… oh, no. It’s that man, isn’t it? That man with the accent… Father is going to make me… oh, no.

EMMA: Heaven help us.

ABIGAIL: Did I speak out of turn?

BETHANY: (Breaks down sobbing.)

ABIGAIL: Oh, my… miss, whatever is the matter?

BETHANY: So it is true! He is selling me like a sheep.

ABIGAIL: Oh, miss, I… I don’t know what to—

BETHANY: Emma, what am I going to do?

EMMA: Our brother warned me of this, but—

BETHANY: Rowan knew? Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?

EMMA: Please, Bethany, it doesn’t matter now.

BETHANY: How could you keep this from me?

EMMA: I was waiting until the time was right! I was going to help you!

BETHANY: How?

EMMA: I— I don’t know yet. But not now, Bethany, this is a family matter.

BETHANY: Bother family matters, Emma! You all say family matters when you mean lies and secrets! I won’t have any more of it! I… I’m sorry, Mrs. Barrows. But I don’t know what to do.

ABIGAIL: Not at all, child. If you’d like, you can tell me your troubles. There may be something I can do.

EMMA: Mrs. Barrows…

BETHANY: We must have help from somewhere, Emma.

EMMA: (Sighing) Yes. Yes, we must.

ABIGAIL: Please, tell me. Perhaps… perhaps I can help.

(End flashback.)

SCENE 3.4

SETTING: Loring’s End, 1934

TOM: They put these here to steal away the evidence against Reginald. Emma… and my mother. She sewed them in here to help Bethany.

ALICE: Did Emma know this was still here?

TOM: She must have.

ALICE: But she wanted you to make her another one!

TOM: Yes, a perfect copy— not something close, but a perfect copy! Because only a perfect copy could replace the original.

ALICE: She was going to swap them? So she could get the documents without anyone knowing they were gone. My God. It was Grandfather, wasn’t it!? He must have found them out and tried to stop her! The monster killed Bethany to keep his secret! His own daughter!

TOM: Alice, please—!

(Footsteps as CONSTANCE approaches.)

CONSTANCE: Alice? Is that you?

ALICE: Oh, no. Aunt Constance! She’s coming in! Tom, you have to hide, she can’t see you in here! Quick— into the clothes! We have to—

CONSTANCE: Alice?

ALICE: Auntie!

CONSTANCE: What are you doing in my wardrobe?

ALICE: I— I was looking for you, Aunt. I wanted to ask you— about my dress. For the coming out ball.

(Pause.)

ALICE: Then I… I found this.

CONSTANCE: Bethany’s dress. I see.

ALICE: It’s beautiful.

CONSTANCE: As beautiful as she was. That clipping didn’t do her justice. I thought they would bury her in it, but Father saved it.

ALICE: He did?

(Pause.)

ALICE: Aunt Constance, I want to ask you something.

CONSTANCE: She would have only ruined it if she’d gone out into the garden.

ALICE: Aunt Constance. Do you know… anything about what Grandfather was doing?

CONSTANCE: Of course, dear.

ALICE: You… you did?

CONSTANCE: He arranged marriages for all of us. For Bethany… then for me… you mustn’t think we were all to end up like Emma… But you must forgive me, Alice. We are a little behind schedule, I suppose.

ALICE: Behind schedule? For what?

CONSTANCE: You didn’t think I’d let you become an old maid too, did you? Whatever would people say?

ALICE: Aunt Constance, what are you talking about?

CONSTANCE: Bethany had already been taken care of by the time of her coming out, but no matter, there will be plenty of fine young men to meet at yours. We’ll find someone for you, don’t you worry.

ALICE: You’re going to arrange a marriage for me?

CONSTANCE: Of course your uncle and I want to see to your future.

ALICE: But why!?

CONSTANCE: Because that’s how things are done.

ALICE: But… but I don’t want to get married!

CONSTANCE: You don’t? My poor dear. I fear that in this life we seldom find things go the way we want.

SCENE 3.5

TOM: What are we going to do?

ALICE: What do you mean?

TOM: How are we going to stop this?

ALICE: I don’t know if we can!

TOM: So you’re just going to go along with it?

ALICE: Tom!

TOM: Hasn’t your family done enough damage that way?

ALICE: I can’t just tell them no!

TOM: We have to! Or else you’ll be married off! Or else we can’t—!

(Pause.)

ALICE: Or else we can’t what?

(Pause.)

ALICE: What, Tom!?

TOM: Because I— care about you, Alice! I feel… quite strongly for you.

ALICE: Oh, Tom.

TOM: Yes, Alice! Is that so wrong?

ALICE: Oh, my God.

TOM: I thought… I thought you might too. For me.

ALICE: Don’t say it, Tom!

TOM: Alice!

ALICE: I can’t. I— I can’t. I’ve never—

TOM: Jesus Christ.

ALICE: Tom, I’m a Loring! I can’t just… be with anybody!

TOM: Anybody? Or a tradesman like me.

ALICE: Tom!

TOM: I’m sorry to have presumed on you.

ALICE: I can’t talk about this!

TOM: You don’t have to.

(He turns to leave.)

ALICE: Tom, wait! I need you.

TOM: Don’t worry. I’m still going to help you. And I haven’t asked you for anything.

(He exits. ALICE begins to cry.)

SCENE 3.6

Setting: Della’s pub

DELLA: Tom! Evening there, dear. Were you up with Miss Loring again? How are things there?

(Pause.)

DELLA: What’s happened?

TOM: You were right, Del. About Alice.

DELLA: Aw, Tom. I’m real sorry. Really I am.

TOM: Thanks.

DELLA: At least now you can get back to your own life. You’ve sure got enough on your plate already.

TOM: Can’t do that, Del.

DELLA: Honey! Why would you put yourself through that?

TOM: I made her a promise. I mean to keep it, whatever else.

DELLA: I’ll bring you a little something. It’ll make you feel better.

(DELLA moves off. TOM sighs. He is jostled by KENNETH as he tries to walk by.)

KENNETH: ‘Scuse me.

TOM: Kenneth?

KENNETH: God damn it. You.

TOM: What’s wrong?

KENNETH: Nothing. Just on my way out.

TOM: Hey, wait a minute.

KENNETH: Leave me alone, kid!

TOM: I said wait!

DELLA: Tom! What’s got into you?

TOM: I have to run, Del.

DELLA: Tom!

TOM: It’s something I have to do.

SCENE 3.7

(KENNETH breathes heavily as his steps crunch over gravel. Suddenly he grunts and stumbles, thumping against the alley wall.)

KENNETH: Jesus Christ! You!

TOM: What were you doing out that other night?

KENNETH: What? Let me go!

TOM: Not until you talk to me! When I ran into you on the road, what were you doing?

KENNETH: None of your business!

TOM: I was up at the Lorings’ place, just like you said. And I think you were too.

KENNETH: What are you talking about?

TOM: You were the one who broke in, weren’t you?

KENNETH: Screw off!

TOM: You had your arm hurt just like the burglar. You were hanging around just outside the grounds. And you’re too hot after anything to do with that family.

KENNETH: Oh, you got no idea!

TOM: What do you have against the Lorings?

KENNETH: Plenty, boy!

TOM: Do you want something from them? Money? What did they ever do to you?

KENNETH: More than you’ll ever know! So leave me to my own business!

TOM: Tell me what you’re up to.

KENNETH: No!

TOM: I could have the police after you in a minute! You were real sore against Miss Emma, weren’t you?

KENNETH: So what if I was?

TOM: Because she’s dead, that’s what! Because somebody killed her, and I think it was you!

KENNETH: Me? I didn’t do anything to her!

TOM: You broke into your house and went digging through her things. We know what you were after, Kenneth. We found Emma’s papers. She was looking into the death of Bethany Loring.

KENNETH: I know that!

TOM: What did you want with those papers? Did you have something to do with that too?

KENNETH: You don’t know what you’re on about!

TOM: Did you want to hurt that girl too?

KENNETH: (yelling over TOM) I never! I wanted to marry her!

TOM: What?

KENNETH: You think you know everything just because that ;ittle niece let you in? Think you’re so damn clever? You don’t know a bit of what went on in that house! I never would have hurt that girl in a thousand years! Bethany and me… we were… we loved each other.

TOM: How did you know her?

KENNETH: Why the hell should I tell you?

TOM: So I understand! So I believe you when you say you didn’t hurt anyone!

KENNETH: Augh!

TOM: Because I’m not going to let you alone until you do!

(KENNETH sighs.)

KENNETH: We worked there. At the Lorings’. My old man was Loring’s valet. I was a stable boy.

TOM: Yeah?

KENNETH: Her father had me give Bethany her riding lessons, and we got to talking. She was about my age, and such a nice girl… we fell in love.

TOM: Nobody ever told me about Bethany having a sweetheart.

KENNETH: We kept it secret! We had to! Her father never would have stood for it. He had bigger plans for his baby girl than some ruffian minding horses. We didn’t know how we were going to be together, but…

TOM: Did something change?

KENNETH: Emma found us out.

(Flashback effect.)

SCENE 3.8

SETTING: Loring’s End, 1917

EMMA: Bethany? Mrs. Warren told me you’d gone out to the stables. Bethany?

(Sound of footsteps. Pause.)

BETHANY: Emma!

EMMA: Oh, Bethany…

BETHANY: What are you doing here?

EMMA: Looking for you. I wondered why you were suddenly so devoted to your riding lessons.

KENNETH: Oh, please, miss…

BETHANY: Emma, you can’t tell anyone.

EMMA: Bethany, what are you doing?

KENNETH: Miss, you don’t understand.

BETHANY: I love him, and he loves me.

EMMA: I see. How long has this been going on?

KENNETH: Since last spring, miss.

EMMA: Oh, good heavens. I see we’re all such practiced secret keepers.

BETHANY: Father would never understand. He’d just try to keep us apart!

KENNETH: I swear, miss, I only mean to be good to your sister. I’d never bring her to any harm. I love her, miss.

BETHANY: Please, Emma.

EMMA: (Sighing.) Very well, dear.

(Flashback effect.)

SCENE 3.9

SETTING: Alley outside Della’s Pub, 1934

KENNETH: I kept waiting for her old man or her big brother to come down on us, but they never did, so I suppose she kept her promise. She never spoke to us about it again until we found out about what Mr. Loring was planning.

TOM: The arranged marriage.

KENNETH: Yes. How do you know that?

TOM: It was in Emma’s papers.

KENNETH: She said she was going to help us. She hatched the plan, it was her idea!

TOM: What plan?

KENNETH: To get away! For me to whisk Bethany away from her coming out ball and slip off into the night. She said she had something.

TOM: Had something?

KENNETH: Something that if Loring ever came after us, we could make sure he’d stay away. I don’t know what, she never told me. But I trusted her, that cold bitch, for all the good it did.

TOM: The papers. The papers my mother sewed into the dress. They could have exposed him as a collaborator with the Germans.

KENNETH: The old man was collaborating? Oh, that self-righteous old bastard! Damn shame he never got what he deserved.

TOM: So what happened?

KENNETH: I did what she said. I waited for Bethany just outside the party. I waited for hours, it felt like .All night. Then I heard how they found her, all broken like that… I never got to see her again.

TOM: What went wrong?

KENNETH: That’s the devil of it! I don’t know! I was there are the garden gate just like we planned, but she never came to meet me.

TOM: And Emma blamed you.

KENNETH: For letting it happen. Afterward she chased me off. Dismissed me from my job and told me never to show my face at Loring’s End again. The hag wanted someone to blame, so she settled on me.

TOM: And you swear you didn’t have anything to do with it?

KENNETH: I was a stupid boy, Tom! Just like you are. But I loved her, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to keep her safe.

TOM: And not Miss Emma either?

KENNETH: I didn’t kill her. More like she killed me. Swear on poor Bethany’s grave.

TOM: Then… help me.

KENNETH: Help you?

TOM: Yes. Help me figure out what’s going on herer. It may be the only way to ever know what really happned to Bethany.

KENNETH: And… you won’t turn me in to the cops?

TOM: If what you say is true, no, I won’t. Just work with me.

(Pause.)

TOM: We’ve got almost twenty years of secrets to dig through here. I need all the help I can get.

(Pause.)

TOM: And then there’s Miss Alice. She’s… she’s a real nice girl, Kenneth. She needs all the help she can get too.

KENNETH: For all the good a drunk like me can do you… I’ll help you how I can.

TOM: Thank you. Listen, I’m sorry about how Miss Emma treated you. But I think she hurt just like you do. Whatever she was doing, I think she just wanted to know what happened too.

KENNETH: Might be.

TOM: She must have thought about her a lot. When she came to me, she wanted me to make a copy of Bethany’s gown. She gave me this picture of her.

KENNETH: Picture? Could I… could I see it?

(Crinkling as TOM produces the clipping and hands it to KENNETH.)

KENNETH: Haven’t seen her in years. Didn’t have no pictures of her. Afraid I was going to forget what she looked like. (Pause.) My God, she was beautiful.

TOM: I’m sorry.

KENNETH: Not as sorry as I am. Go on now, Tom. I’ll be seeing you around. Let’s make it in the daylight next time, with no more shoving.

SCENE 3.10

Setting: Della’s pub

ALICE: Excuse me. Are you Miss Carruthers?

DELLA: Call me Della.

ALICE: My name is Alice Loring.

DELLA: Oh. So you’re Miss Alice.

ALICE: Yes. It’s nice to meet you. Tom Barrows has told me a lot about you.

DELLA: Likewise. What brings you down here, miss?

ALICE: I— I, um, was hoping to talk to Tom. He’s not at his shop, so I thought I might find him here.

DELLA: Afraid he just left, miss. Couldn’t tell you where he went.

ALICE: Oh. Well, I said some awful things to him that I never should have said. So if you see him, could you tell him how sorry I am? And that… I didn’t mean it? Would you tell him that for me?

DELLA: Sure I will, miss.

ALICE: Thank you. I suppose I’ll be on my way.

DELLA: All right, then. Stay safe now.

(ALICE turns to go.)

DELLA: Miss, wait. If you wait a moment, I think he might be back soon.

ALICE: Oh. All right. I… I think I will.

(Pause. TOM comes up behind them.)

TOM: Alice? What are you doing here?

ALICE: I’m sorry, Tom. And I want to try.

SCENE 3.11

SETTING: Della’s pub

DELLA: Sure it’s all right that you’re out this late on your own, miss?

ALICE: I sneaked out. They don’t know I’m gone. I couldn’t stand to stay in that house anymore. Not knowing what grandfather did.

TOM: Maybe so, Alice, but he died before any of this happened to Emma. He couldn’t have done that.

DELLA: And now you’re sure old Kenneth isn’t responsible.

TOM: He seemed genuine to me. Like a poor old guy with a lost love.

DELLA: Never knew that about him. Poor old guy.

TOM: And whoever did kill Emma didn’t want her to dig up the secrets she was after. Kenneth would hardly want to protect Reginald Loring from anything.

ALICE: So what’s to be done? It’s as if we’ve learned everything except who did it.

TOM: I think we should keep on with Emma’s plan.

ALICE: What?

TOM: Emma was on the trail of what really happened. She must have found what she was looking for.

DELLA: And look what happened! Seems you’re like as not to bring a killer down on your heads just like Miss Loring did.

TOM: Maybe so. But I can’t think of any other way to find this out.

ALICE: What was Emma going to do now?

TOM: Well, the last thing she did was come to me. I’m going to do her commission.

ALICE: Bethany’s dress?

DELLA: Tom! You’ve hardly had the time as it is!

TOM: You could help me! Both of you!

ALICE: Could we?

DELLA: Tom, you know I’d do anything for you, but I’m no good with a needle.

TOM: Might be, but you’ve got two hands, you can help with other things.

DELLA: And what’s going to happen when it’s made?

ALICE: We could switch it out, like she planned. And bring the documents to light, like she was going to.

TOM: If that doesn’t draw them out, nothing will.

DELLA: So you’re set on doing this, Tom?

TOM: I am.

DELLA: Well, then, you’re going to need help getting through it. I’m in.

TOM: Thank you, Del.

ALICE: Yes, thank you.

DELLA: No trouble for this one, dear. You won’t meet a better man than this one. Well, it’s getting late. I should be getting home to my husband. I’ll be seeing the two of you soon.

TOM: Goodnight, Della.

(DELLA walks off. TOM and ALICE start off as well.)

ALICE: So Bethany loved this stable boy.

TOM: Yeah. And look how well that turned out.

ALICE: She must have seen something in him to make it worth it. Like… if he were the best man she knew.

TOM: Emma trusted my mother to help her save Bethany.

ALICE: It was brave of her.

TOM: I can’t do any less.

(TOM kisses ALICE’s hand.)

ALICE: Tom…

TOM: We have to finish what Emma started. We have to make that dress.

End of Episode 3: What She Started

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

PMRP Summer Radio Mystery Theater approaches!


The Post-Meridian Radio Players are getting close to their performance date for their Summer Radio Mystery Theater show!

The pieces:

From The Burns and Allen Show - "Gracie Takes Up Crime-Solving!"

Gracie's fascination with the radio detective show "The Tall Man" inspires her to change careers and drag hubby George into an investigation of the local postman's missing 1928 Ford Essex!

Written by George Burns
Directed by Brad Smith

Featuring Jared Hite as Bill Goodman!

Sorry, Wrong Number!

After overhearing a murder plot on the telephone, Mrs. Stevenson tries in vain to alert the authorities, but no one seems willing to listen to—let alone believe—her story until it is too late!

Directed by Neil Marsh
Original script by Lucille Fletcher

Featuring rigel* in the starring role of Mrs. Stevenson!

And The Hound of the Baskervilles

A rural doctor from Devonshire enlists the aid of Sherlock Holmes to protect the new lord of Baskerville Hall from a sinister threat: a demonic hound!

Directed by Jess Viator
Original script by Murray Burnett
Adapted from the novel by A. Conan Doyle
Performance adaptation by Jeremy Holstein

Featuring Jared Hite as Sir Henry Baskerville!

Performance Dates
Friday, July 27th, 2012 @ 7:30pm
Saturday, July 28th, 2012 @ 2:00pm (matinee)
Saturday, July 28th, 2012 @ 7:30pm

Location
Urban Promise Church of Somerville
204 Elm Street, Somerville, MA

Besides being excited for the shows themselves, I am excited to see Jared play two such different characters. The Burns and Allen piece intends to imitate the original as much as possible, so Bill Goodman is the first role he's ever gotten based on his considerable skill as a mimic. And I've always loved The Hound of the Baskervilles as a story, so I was incredibly pysched that he got to be in that.

I will be attending two of the three performances, the Friday night show and the Saturday matinee. If anyone would care to join me, I would love the company, and would be interested in making plans for dinner and lunch beforehand. So please let me know once you've reserved your tickets, which you may do here on the show website.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The knockoff Atonement dress

You may remember that this past April, to console myself upon aging out of the best years of my life, I purchased a dress off of eBay that was designed to resemble the gorgeous green silk charmeuse gown worn by Keira Knightley in the film Atonement. I've had it for some time now, but have yet to have an occasion to wear it. But one thing I've been meaning to do is take pictures of myself in it to post here.

knockoffatonementdress1

The dress is not a perfect fit. It's actually cut for someone less curvy than I, if you can believe that. It's a bit tight in the hips, so it has to ride up to lay right, which makes it rumple in the waist. I like how the bust shaping gives me definition. There's just same old problem I have regarding my boxy, massively oversized ribcage that means the zipper in the back only mostly closes. I think that also means the straps are not pulled as taut as they should be, and are prone to slipping. I may shorten them a bit because of that. Fortunately the back shape camaflauges the slightly gaping top of the zipper. I've always found a bare back very sexy, particularly my own.

knockoffatonementdress3
knockoffatonementdress4

If I remade it, which I'd like to do someday, I may copy the original, but I also would love to make it as the Tailor dress. Cornflower blue, slight cowl neck over a close-fitting beaded bodice with a straight skirt. And of course, sized to my proportions. Or possibly someone else's-- niobien* not only plays Bethany Loring, the wearer of the famous dress, she is the one cast member who I actually think physically resembles what I picture for her character. It sure would be fun to dress her up in such a gown and take her portrait in character.

But even if this dress is not perfect on me, I still like it. It has a long train and is very hot, which makes it not the easiest dress to wear, but it is a fabulous, flattering, striking color and I love the drama of it. And at the very least, it will be good inspiration for future dressmaking efforts. 

 knockoffatonementdress2

Monday, July 9, 2012

Get out of my ear already



Awesome 4th of July party this past weekend. The food was delicious, the company was great, and I very much appreciated the chance to swim in the nearby lake. My bikini doesn't get nearly enough time to come out and play; once a year is really not enough. It was one of the best social events I've attended in quite some time. Congrats to captainecchi* and electric_d_monk* for putting it on, they really knocked it out of the park.

The only problem is now I have water in my left ear that won't seem to come out. I have tried every home remedy that friends and the Internet can suggest, and nothing has helped. The pressure's a bit painful, and I can't hear so well on that side. I think it may have reduced slightly since Saturday, but it's still bugging me. This has never happened to me before and I'm quite vexed. The most annoying thing is that it's most comfortable when I lie on my back and the water shifts to the back of my head; when I'm upright it pools downward and is painful. I was extremely prone to ear infections when I was a kid, and I've read that the risk increases the longer the water stays in there, so I may end up seeing a doctor about it just so I don't have to put up with it anymore. Not the momento I was hoping to bring home with me from attending a fabulous party.

Friday, July 6, 2012

First attempt at draping!

stripedsilkdupioni

Ages ago I bought something like five yards of a gorgeous striped dupioni silk off of eBay. It's lovely, in sophisticated shades of gold, red, and dark green, and has a stiff hand and a smooth texture. Today I pulled it out of the bottom of my fabric basket and messed around with pinning it to Adelaide, my dress form. I don't know much about draping, and it's one of those arts that seems simple but takes years of practice to really get, but it was kind of fun sculpting with the fabric and pinning it in interesting shapes.

stripedsilkdupionidraping1
I love the look of the strong, varicolor vertical lines. I just did a simple cowl neck here, and tried to draw in the waist a little bit, but now I want to try more things. I've always liked the look of elaborate pleating at the bodice, and that's definitely a sort of design that one would drape. Not sure how it would look with the stripes... but I'm excited to find out!

Thursday, July 5, 2012

I want to take a picture like this

I really don't like Kristin Stewart, I think she's incredibly bland, both in appearance and as an actress, but I love this picture. I got it off 's Tumblr. If I am interpreting this correctly, both of these models are her.

krisandkristinstewart

I would love to take a picture like this. I've been meaning to drag myself out as far as I'm capable and photograph myself. I really like the juxtaposition of the feminine version of Stewart with her masculine version. I've watched some makeup tutorials on the Internet about how to make your face more masculine but I haven't tried them yet. I would also love to try to do my hair like man-Kristin's, all sleek and slicked back. And the suit with the suspenders is pretty cool too.

The Isabel Series

A few weeks ago I did a photoshoot with Steph. This one came out of reflecting on the fact that I don't have a lot of interesting locations to serve as backgrounds for pictures... but one I do have access to that's kind of neat is my kitchen. It's bright and airy and blue-and-white, one of my favorite color schemes for decor. (I know, I'm an old lady.) I also have lots of blue and white household items to serve as props, and it also goes well with the color of my beloved copper cookware. So in order to take advantage of this, I created kind of a Perfect Hostess character named Isabel for Steph to pose as. I like the act and accoutrements of cooking, though my desire to not make a mess and the slow speed at which the process goes made me cut back on the verisimilitude. Also I wish my microwave didn't love over the stove. Microwaves are not lovely. Aw, well.

These photos are, as usual, minimally edited, just cropped a little and with the color saturation punched up. One of these days I'm going to have to learn how to use a more serious editing program. I'd love to have these with real stark white, very rich blue, and extremely bright copper. Add that to my ever-expanding projects list. They are full-sized so they LiveJournal does not make them fuzzy.

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Tuesday, July 3, 2012

A melancholy person

I've kind of gotten used to the idea of myself as inclined to be a mope. A melancholy person, a person with anger issues, whose nature it is to linger low. But-- I accepted this with the caveat that I wasn't always this way. That this is a recent development, based on the unprecedented level of stress in my life in recent years. I used to be a mellow person, a contented, vital person. And maybe if I move past this stuff, I can be that mellow, contented, vital person again. Because that's the person I really was.

But tonight something occurred to me. The last time I was like that? I was less than eighteen years old. A child. Before I went away to school, before I left my parents' house. I have never been like that in my entire adult life. I was a happy child. I am a melancholy adult. I have never been anything but a melancholy adult. As a fully formed person, this is the person that I am.

Maybe I can be mellow, contented, vital someday. But I have lost the comfort that I could "revert," that I already had this inside me, as part of me, maybe even the true me. Like getting back to my old weight. But I will have to become an entirely new person. I will have to become something entirely different than what I am.

Because as long as I have been a person, I have never been anything but melancholy.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Break a Leg running at Intercon M

I just got word this past week that Break a Leg has been accepted at Intercon. Glad to hear it, but I would have been very surprised had it not. It will make for a nice, short, funny eight-player game on Sunday morning. Intercon can always use those, and I get my attendance comped for a new game. Everybody's happy.

Now I've got to write the thing. Besides the interpersonal stuff which will provide the bulk of the humor, two somewhat nonstandard major sources of gameplay will be the interactive environment, and the performance aspect. It will be very important to examine the setting, which will be limited to a backstage area, to gather information and things to respond to-- there is a murdered body right in front of you, so of course there's some clue-gathering to be done. But you also have to go on in two hours, and at the moment due to that murder the show you had planned isn't going to work. So you're going to have throw something together then, because of course the show must go on! You know that the eccentric genius playwright associated with the troop has been working on her next project, and as luck would have it pieces of her work seem to be scattered around the space... but rumors of her recent complete mental breakdown may be proven by the fact that these pieces are not as coherent as the troupe might hope. Still, it's your best bet to having a show, so you'd better find ways to make the material work, or you might never work in this town again! Perform what you find for each other so you can figure out how to stage it and assemble it into a some kind of complete show.

I think that performance aspect will be a lot of fun for players, but that means I have to write that weird-ass, hopefully humorous script material too. Which makes the job a little bit bigger than originally planned. Oh, well. As usual, it'll be worth it once it's done.


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